Love in Cursive

The other day my ten-year old came home from school walking with the kind of buoyancy only love can induce. “I have a secret,” he announced.

“You have a girlfriend!” I blurted (Sometimes I just can’t control my powers.) He nodded, nearly levitating with pride.

“Describe her,” I said. “What’s she like?

”She’s nice.”

“What does she look like? That seemed to stump him.

Ever the romantic, I said, “Tell me about her eyes.”

After some thought he said, “She has two of them.”

Okay. “Lips?”

“Two.”

“Hair?”

“Yes.”

That’s my boy.

That night when I peeked in on him before going to bed, he was reading Bingo Brown’s Guide to Romance by Betsy Byars. Getting tips, he said. And copying love letters straight from the book—in cursive.